


Time Is Everything

by Marblez



Category: Hornblower (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Battle of Jutland - 1916, Coming of Age, Description Of Battle, M/M, Major Character Death(s), Minor Character Death(s), Slash, Violence, World War I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-16 10:10:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18092321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marblez/pseuds/Marblez
Summary: A one-shot story following the lives of Midshipman Kennedy and Lieutenant Hornblower aboard the Battlecruiser HMS Indefatigable during her service in the Great War.





	Time Is Everything

**DISCLAIMER** I don’t own Hornblower or any of its characters.

 **SUMMARY** A one-shot story following the lives of Midshipman Kennedy and Lieutenant Hornblower aboard the Battlecruiser _HMS Indefatigable_ during her service in the Great War.

 **WARNINGS/TAGS** Slash, Coming-of-Age, Descriptions of Battle, Violence, World War One, Major Character Death(s), Minor Character Death(s)

 **A/N1** So this story came into being completely by accident. One of my other stories is based around the _Battle of Jutland_ and so when I decided to re-watch Hornblower my mind made the connection between the fictional exploits of _HMS Indefatigable_ and the real fate of the ship of the same name at the largest Naval battle of the Great War and this story was born.

 **A/N2** Whilst I am using the true story/fate of _HMS Indefatigable_ at the _Battle of Jutland_ as the plotting for this story all of the characters I’ll be using shall come from Hornblower and aren’t meant to reflect on the true men that served aboard her during the battle in any way.

 **A/N3** I’ve taken the title of this story from a quote by Vice Admiral Horatio Nelson – _“Time is everything; five minutes make the difference between victory and defeat.”_

 **A/N4** I shall be using 24hr clock during this story as that is what was used in the Royal Navy then and is still used now. For anyone who isn’t aware this means that 1300 is 1pm, 1400 is 2pm and so on until you get to 2300 for 11pm – midnight resets the clock back to 0000.

**~ TIME IS EVERYTHING ~**

Coming from such a large family it was unsurprising to the then thirteen-year-old Archibald “Archie” Kennedy that his parents would arrange for him to sit the entrance examination for the _Royal Naval College, Osborne_ , as such an opportunity would set him up with a career for life. Having never been particularly academic, more inclined towards outdoor pursuits, he’d struggled through the examinations in English, history and geography, arithmetic, algebra, geometry (both practical and theoretical) French or German and Latin but had managed to scrape through and received a place as a cadet at the prestigious college. He had found it difficult to adjust to a military life story first, particularly in regards to the uniform, but as soon as they moved on from the classroom based lessons and onto more physical aspects he’d realised how fortunate he had been to be given such a chance. His other saving grace had been one of his fellow cadets, his first true friend, Horatio Hornblower, named after England’s most famous and most successful Naval hero, Admiral Horatio Nelson, who had been as fond of academic studies as Archie was of the outdoor pursuits. Between the two of them they were able to cover and learn all that they needed, each helping the other to pass.

After two years of what was known as “initial training” they were transferred to the _Royal Naval College, Dartmouth,_ to continue their studies and after a further two years of more intense study they were thankfully posted to the same training ship in order to gain some practical experience of life at sea before they sat their final examinations. Of all the things that they had learned aboard their training ship the most significant was not necessarily a good or even an important thing in the grand scheme of things. It was simply that Horatio possessed a unique ability to be seasick even when the ship was anchored and the sea calm.

Archie, on the other hand, had taken to life aboard ship like a duck to water.

He longed for the days of old when there were enormous masts to climb, his adventurous spirit in need of the excitement, but had to console himself to scaling every inch of metal that when out together had become the training ship, often straying into areas that were out-of-bounds to Archie and his fellow cadets. He was never caught, though, so the only person who knew of his adventures was his closest companion, Horatio, who’d never tell.

It was during their time aboard the training ship that their relationship transformed into something new, something deeper, and all because of a storm. With the ship rocking so badly that even Archie, usually so sure of his footing, was unsteady and with no apparent end to the storm in sight poor Horatio was all but bed bound and he wasn’t the only one.

Archie, loyal friend that he was, completed his friend’s duties as well as his own.

This meant that by the time he was free to crawl into bed he was even more exhausted than usual and was therefore unable to resist the pitiful moaning coming through the sliding door of Horatio’s cabin. Knocking once he slid the door open and slipped inside, letting out a sigh of sympathy as he caught sight of his dear friend curled up on his bed with his arms clutched around his stomach and his eyes clenched shut. Without a moment hesitation he slipped off his shoes, stripped down to his underclothes, and climbed up onto the bed beside Horatio.

“…Archie?”

“Aye, it’s me,” the then seventeen-year-old whispered softly, shifting so that he was curled around Horatio’s body before gently encouraging his friend to shift so that his head rested on Archie’s chest, allowing him to wrap his arms around the seasick cadet. “Try to sleep.”

The comforting touch was, apparently, exactly what his friend had needed.

“Thank you…”

Horatio was asleep moments later, his body relaxing, and Archie followed him soon after.

It was the morning that brought about the change to their relationship.

Archie woke slowly, something that was a luxury in the Royal Navy even as a cadet, and discovered that in the night their positions had shifted so as to entwine them together.

His arms were still wrapped around Horatio but at some point in his sleep his left hand hand moved down to disappear _underneath_ Horatio’s pyjama bottoms, resting over the smooth, warm flesh of his fellow cadets left buttock. It was firm beneath his hand, the muscle taught due to the way that Horatio’s leg was hooked over his own, and he was alarmed to realise how much the simple touch was affecting him as blood rushed to his groin. Horatio’s hands had similarly moved, slipping underneath the bottom of Archie’s vest to rest upon his chest.

That felt almost as good as the taught flesh bellow his hand.

Inhaling sharply as the blood pounded in his ears, his own pulse seeming to overwhelm him as he both heard and felt it as his member began to harden in response to his _male_ friend, he froze, unsure of what to do. He knew he should pull away from the sinful temptation he had found before him but at the same he didn’t want to disturb Horatio’s peaceful slumber.

Only to realise when looking down at his friends face that Horatio was just as awake as he.

“Horatio…”

His eyes fell to his friend’s plump lips as his pink tongue darted out to wet them.

“Archie…”

Which of them moved first they’d never know but between one breath and the next their lips, one set plump, the other thin, were pressed together in a gentle yet passionate kiss.

His hands clenched of their own accord, bringing forth a startled moan from Horatio who responded to the touch by rocking his hips forwards, pressing his groin against Archie’s in such a way that there was no mistaking the fact that his friend was just as aroused as he.

_“Horatio…”_

“This…this is wrong…”

“Is it?”

“Yes…the bible…the bible says…”

Yes, the bible _did_ say that such a thing as they were doing was a sin, but…

“…but if it’s so wrong then why does it feel so right?”

His question, voice mostly by accident, effectively silenced his friend long enough for the two of them to give into the temptation of each other’s lips and kiss once more, this time with more pressure behind it, forcing them to angle their heads so as not to bump their noses together. He’s kissed a couple of girls before but it had never felt like this. _Never._

It felt as though there was liquid fire running through his veins.

Horatio was trembling when they parted for a second time or perhaps they both were.

“I don’t know,” the dark-haired cadet answered Archie’s earlier question, his eyes filled with torment as he struggled to comprehend what he was feeling in regards to what he had been taught. Archie wondered if his own eyes held a similar expression. “Archie…I don’t know…”

They had parted shortly after that, saying nothing more on the matter for a number of days until one day when they were on watch together during a theoretical exercise and Archie had caught himself staring at the way Horatio’s trousers clung rather snugly to his bottom.

He’d snapped his gaze away as soon as he’d realised what he was doing but it had been too late; Horatio had seen the direction of his gaze in the reflection provided by the porthole.

It had come as no surprise that Horatio had sought him out as soon as they were off duty.

What had been a surprise was the kiss he had received as soon as they were alone in his friend’s cabin. It wasn’t like their first kiss or even their second; this one held desperation.

From then on there was no looking back.

After a suitable amount of time had passed they and their fellow cadets were brought back to the _Royal Naval College, Dartmouth_ to sit their final examinations, something that would decide their seniority and postings as and could have a huge impact on the chances of early promotion. Horatio excelled at all things academia and was rewarded with a promotion to Lieutenant whilst Archie, whilst performing admirably enough, was only able to achieve the rank of Midshipman. Their postings, however, were all they really cared about and they weren’t to be disappointed for they were both ordered to report to the recently completed _HMS Indefatigable_ , joining the ship as part of her first crew for the commissioning ceremony on 24th February 1911 at which time they officially became part of the _1st Cruiser Squadron_.

They had therefore been serving aboard the _“Indie”_ for almost two-and-a-half years when war was declared, Archie and Horatio joining their fellow officers in the Wardroom to hear the official statement published by the Foreign Office read out by Captain Edward Pellew.

 _“Owing to the summary rejection by the German Government of the request made by His Majesty’s Government for assurances that the neutrality of Belgium would be respected, His Majesty’s Ambassador in Berlin has received his passport, and His Majesty’s Government has declared to the German Government that a state of war exists between Great Britain and Germany as from 11pm on August 4th,”_ here their Captain, a man who’s skill and abilities inspired fierce loyalty the men under his command, paused. “Gentlemen, we are at war.”

By this point they had already had their first taste of excitement.

 _HMS Indefatigable_ , accompanied by the battlecruiser _HMS Indomitable_ and under the command of Admiral Sir Berkeley Milne, had encountered the German battlecruiser _SMS Goeben_ and the light cruiser _SMS Breslau_ early that morning and, owing to the fact that talk of the inevitable war heading their way had been rife for months but not yet declared they had turned to shadow the German ships as they headed back to Messina to pick up coal.

By the time they had been called into the Wardroom to hear the declaration early the following morning they had lost contact with the _Goeben_ and _Breslau_ due to issues with their boilers, something that was a common problem amongst battlecruisers of all nations.

“Now as much as Admiral Milne would like to chase those Huns down and give them the thrashing they deserve we must respect the Admiralties order regarding Italy’s neutrality,” Pellew explained, lifting a hand to silence the grumbles that his words brought forth. “We must therefore remain at least six miles from the Italian coast which precludes us from entering the Strait of Messina, from which we could have observed the port directly.”

“We aren’t just going to let them go, are we?” Lieutenant Chadd gasped. “Sir?”

“No, we aren’t _just going to let them go_ , Lieutenant,” Pellew confirmed firmly, his words filling each every one of them with relief. “Admiral Milne has decided that we, along with the _Inflexible_ , shall be stationed at the northern exit of the strait as we expect the Germans will make an attempt to break out to the west so they can attack French troop transports.”

Several of the _Indefatigable’s_ officers nodded in agreement with the decision.

 _“HMS Gloucester_ will be station at the southern exit,” Pellew continued, explaining Admiral Milne’s orders calmly and clearly. “And _HMS Indomitable_ has been ordered to replenish her coal supplies at Bizerte where she will be ready for action in the Western Mediterranean.”

The plan was good, even Archie could see that, but sadly it didn’t work.

On the 6th August the Germans left Messina, heading east towards Constantinople, with _HMS Gloucester_ following as close behind them as they could. It was expected that they would turn west so the battle cruisers were kept at Malta until shortly after midnight on Saturday 8th August 1914 when they set off for Cape Matapan where _Goeben_ had been spotted eight hours earlier. It was then that they received a message from the Admiralty stating that Britain was at war with Austria-Hungary, prompting them to abandon their hunt altogether so that they could follow their standing orders to guard the Adriatic against an Austrian break-out attempt. Confusingly the order was countermanded four hours later.

“A mistake?” Archie repeated with a frown. “So…we’re _not_ at war with Austria-Hungary?”

“Not yet, anyway,” Horatio murmured, running his fingers through Archie’s auburn hair as the pair of them lay entwined on his narrow bed. “But I think we shall be soon enough.”

They were naked, their pale skin glistening with a layer of sweat brought about by their lovemaking, but didn’t dare to lay there for more than a few minutes before dressing. If something happened to the ship they couldn’t risk being discovered in such a state of undress together lest people make the correct assumptions about their relationship.

If they were exposed a homosexuals they would face a humiliating end to their promising naval careers as well as a lengthy and brutal prison sentence. Their lives would be over.

Archie couldn’t risk that, he couldn’t risk Horatio like that.

For himself he could take it if the day ever came.

He would gladly take the blame to spare his love from such a terrible fate.

The following day they received much clearer orders to _“chase Goeben which had passed Cape Matapan on the 7th steering north-east”_ and so they set out once more. Admiral Milne was still convinced that the _Goeben_ wasn’t heading for the Dardanelles and so he resolved to guard the exit from the Aegean. None of them ever saw the _SMS Goeben_ again.

War with Austria-Hungary was confirmed, for the second time for the crew of the Indie, on the 12th August whilst they were still waiting for _Goeben_ to behave as they expected her to.

This time there was no retraction.

This time the declaration was as certain as the one against Germany.

~ * ~

“Archie!”

Smirking around the mouthful of flesh Archie glanced up at his lovers flushed face through his lashes, watching as Horatio threw his head back so hard it smacked against the porthole.

This was not an act that his lover allowed him to perform often, believing it to be beneath them, an act suitable only for those who sold themselves in the seedier areas of the ports.

But Archie liked it, liked _doing_ it, and he suspected that his lover enjoyed the act more than he admitted and so strived to convince Horatio to let him do it as often as he possibly could.

Such as now, when they only had five minutes to spare before the ship was to sail for the Dardanelles to participate the first attack on the area following the commencement of hostilities between the Ottoman and Russian Empires as ordered by the First Sea Lord.

“You…are…a wicked…creature…” Horatio panted, his hands flying down to clutch at Archie’s hair, tugging on the soft strands as his passion overcame him, flooding his sense. “ _Wicked_!”

Smirking all the more Archie increased his efforts, driving his lover towards the precipice of his pleasure so quickly that when he came he was unprepared and let out a startled shout.

Leaning back Archie wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb before sucking it clean.

“And proud of it,” he murmured once he was done, his hands setting about fixing his lovers clothing so that he was presentable once more. “And you wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“No,” Horatio chuckled, helping the shorter man to rise to his feet. “I wouldn’t.”

His hand strayed down to rest over the bulge in Archie’s trousers.

“Later,” the auburn haired officer muttered. “No time now. You can owe me.”

He was right to say that there was no time just then as no sooner had the ship sailed to the Dardanelles than the attack, carried out by the _Indefatigable,_ the _Indomitable_ and two pre-dreadnought battleships of the French navy, the _Suffren_ and the _Vérité_. The intention of the attack, or so they were told through the grapevine that operated on board their ship, was to test the fortifications and measure the Turkish response. The bombardment lasted twenty minutes and proved encouraging, a single shell striking what they presumed to be an enemy magazine, resulting in a large explosion that took them by surprise and caused loud cheers.

They had no way of knowing that these results were deceptively encouraging.

No way of knowing that in response to the attacks the Turks set about strengthening their defences, expanding the mine field that would cause problems for their Allies years later.

It wasn’t until four days later, on the 6th November when Britain formally declared war on the Ottoman Empire, that the pair were finally able to steal another few moments together.

Horatio then proved himself to be just as wicked as Archie.

~ * ~

Despite their years at sea it was still strange to celebrate Christmas when it was as warm and balmy as the summers back home in England, the crew celebrating with as best they could in terms of their Christmas Dinner and gifts, Archie and Horatio secretly exchanging theirs during the forenoon watch as they were rather more personal than was appropriate.

They were relieved by _HMS Inflexible_ on the 24th January 1915 at which time they travelled to Malta for a refit, something that her crew appreciated a great deal if for no other reason than it meant shore leave, a chance to go ashore, to get their feet on dry ground for a while.

Archie and Horatio only managed to get away for one solitary afternoon together, visiting the _Hypogeum_ as it was somewhere that both of them wanted to see for themselves after hearing about it from other officers who had visited the historically rich island in the past. The _Hypogeum_ consisted of halls, chambers and passages hewn out of the living rock and covering some 500 square metres. The rock-cut chambers were of diverse shapes and sizes, finished to different standards of workmanship and Archie, the more imaginative of the two, spun stories of the men and women that had created them as they explored them together.

They weren’t alone in their exploration, unfortunately, although they were able to steal a couple of soft kisses in the darkened corners of the caves before they returned to the ship.

It didn’t escape either of their notice that they ended up sailing for England on Valentine’s Day, a day synonymous with expressing love, and Archie found himself taking risks that he normally wouldn’t; brushing their fingers together as they passed by one another, placing his hand on Horatio’s thigh underneath the table in the Wardroom, fixing Horatio’s tie for him and letting his hands linger a little longer than was necessary. He only stopped when Matthews gave him a look after catching him brushing his softly hand down Horatio’s arm.

“You’re lucky it was Matthews and not someone who’d jump to the correct conclusion and report us to the Captain!” Horatio hissed as they headed towards the wardroom for their evening meal. Archie ducked his head, thoroughly chastised. “Honestly, Archie, take care.”

By the time they arrived back at England they had a new flagship for the 2nd Battlecruiser Squadron, _HMS New Zealand_ having been replaced by the Australian battlecruiser _HMAS Australia_ before they had even left Malta. They arrived with little fan fair, entering into patrols of the North Sea with the rest of the squadron which proved to be uneventful.

There wasn’t a German in sight, much to their disappointment.

Archie did receive some good news during their time on patrol; he was put forward for his examination for Lieutenant at last, and travelled to the appointed place on the appointed date, appearing before a board of Captains who questioned him about all of the things that a Lieutenant in His Majesties Navy was required to know in this modern age. It was the most stressful experience of his entire life and that included the time Cadet Simpson almost killed him back at the _Royal Naval College, Dartmouth,_ when the older boys bullying had come to a head during an exercise on board a pilot ship in the harbour. Simpson had manufactured a set of circumstances that resulted in Archie drifting out to sea in a boat that had no power, no oars and no way of contacting anyone on shore. He had kept his head, doing everything he could to keep himself safe until Horatio, darling Horatio, arrived to rescue him having discovered what Simpson had done. The domineering cadet had been expelled in disgrace.

He passed, to his relief and to no one else’s surprise, and returned to the ship where there was thankfully a space open for him as a newly commissioned Sub-Lieutenant, one of the Lieutenants also having been up for promotion which came with a transfer to another ship.

“You’re out of uniform, Mr Kennedy,” Captain Pellew announced brusquely when Archie reported back on board, paperwork confirming his promotion clutched in his hand. A grin broke out on his face, matching the one that Horatio was sporting. “Please take yourself back ashore and correct this matter. Take Hornblower with you to help you gest sorted.”

It shouldn’t have been possible but his grin grew even larger in response,

“Aye, aye, sir.”

They found a suitable establishment that could provide him with a Lieutenant’s uniform for the right price, making a couple of alterations then and there so that the jacket fitted across his shoulders. It felt strange not to have his rank displayed on his high collar, stranger still to not feel the rigid collar itself press against the side of his neck when he turned his head; on a lieutenants jacket the collar lay flat, exposing the starched collar of his crisp white shirt and the carefully knotted black tie. His new rank was displayed around the cuffs of his jacket, a single gold band with a perfectly circular loop on the outside of each sleeve, and he couldn’t help tracing it with his fingers as he and Horatio took their tame walking back to their ship.

“Much better, Mr Kennedy,” Captain Pellew commented when he saw them. “Very smart.”

“Thank you, sir.”

He wrote to his parents to inform them of his good news that evening whilst sat at the table in the Wardroom conversing with his fellow officers, telling them all about his examination.

They wanted to know every question that he had been asked, particularly the Midshipman’s who would one day face the same test, and as he’d explained the answers he had given the board a couple of debates had sprung up as his colleagues put forth their own alternatives.

Even Horatio had argued with him on a couple of answers.

“Well, gentlemen, regardless of whether or not _you_ believe my answers to be correct the important thing is that the board decided that I was a suitable candidate for promotion.”

A collection of guffaws followed, his friends crying out with mock outrage.

Much to the crews frustration they were left patrolling the North Sea intermittently for the next year and a half, during which time the formation of the 3rd Battlecruiser Squadron led to them losing _HMS Inflexible_ and _HMS Indomitable,_ leaving them with only three ships in their Squadron; _HMS New Zealand, HMAS Australia_ and _HMS Indefatigable_ herself. The loss of the ships didn’t affect their duties nor the way they performed them, neither did it have any sort of effect on their end results; the Germans continued to refuse to come out to play.

Being in an out of Rosyth Naval Base so regularly did allow for them to receive some much needed modifications to her armament as well as to complete general repairs to the ship.

In March 1915 they received a single QF 3-inch 20 cwt anti-aircraft gun on a high-angle Mark II mount which was much admired by officers and sailors alike. Archie could hardly believe it when he was chosen to lead the gun crew by Captain Pellew, his selection over some of the other more senior Officers surprising almost everyone, and because of this he spent a great deal of time pouring over the manual that had been sent along with the gun, ensuring that he knew everything that he could possibly need to know before they began trialling the gun.

The gun, he learned, was based on a pre-war Vickers naval 3-inch QF gun with modifications specified by the War Office back in 1914. These included the introduction of a vertical sliding breech-block to allow semi-automatic operation which, simply put, meant that when the gun recoiled and ran forward after firing, the motion also opened the breech and ejected the empty cartridge case. It then held the breech open ready for them to reload, with the striker cocked ready to fire. Archie could only imagine how much this would do to speed up their rate of fine once the gun crew he was assigned got used to the way everything worked.

As well as receiving the anti-aircraft gun all of the _Indefatigable’s_ 4-inch guns were enclosed in casemates and given gun shields during a refit in November 1915 so as to better protect the gun crews from the challenging weather they often faced out in the North Sea as well as from enemy action, should they ever actually get to see some sort of battle, although two of the aft guns were removed at the same time for reasons that weren’t properly explained.

The final modification that _Indie_ received during this time was the implementation of a fire-control director which centralised fire control under the director officer who now fired the guns. Horatio, who had always had a good head for mathematical equations such as those required for targeting the larger guns, was one of the officers selected to be trained up for this important role. The turret crewmen merely had to follow pointers transmitted from the director to align their guns on the target which would greatly increase the ships accuracy in battle, not only since the ship's roll would no longer disperse the shells as each turret fired on its own but also because the fire-control director could easily spot the fall of the shells.

“Rather you than me, Horatio,” Archie muttered, reclining back in his chair near the stove in the Wardroom with a glass of sherry in his hand, watching as Horatio and the other officers chosen to undergo the training worked together from a collection of books at the table. “I’ll stick to the anti-aircraft gun; less mathematics involved. Just a case of point and shoot, eh?”

“I’m sure it’s a _little_ more complicated than that, Archie…”

“Probably,” Archie conceded. “But it definitely doesn’t include calculations like that…”

There was no argument against _that_ particular statement.

On the afternoon of the 22nd April 1916 the _Battlecruiser Fleet_ was patrolling to the north-west of Horn Reefs when heavy fog came down, the kind that always sent a chill of fear up and down Archie’s spine for reasons he had never quite been able to discover. They were zigzagging so as to avoid submarine attacks, something they had all done countless times before and so no one was expecting it when quite suddenly, probably due to the sudden change in the weather more than anything else, _HMAS Australia_ collided with _HMS New Zealand_ not once but _twice_ in the space of three minutes. They couldn’t really see what happened from the _Indefatigable_ due to the thickness of the fog but they could hear it, could hear the unmistakable grating sound of metal grinding against metal. When the fog had finally cleared it quickly became apparent that _HMAS Australia_ had emerged from the incident rather more heavily damaged than the ship she had collided with which resulted in her being docked for repairs for six weeks, during which time _HMS Indefatigable_ was given the notable honour of acting as the temporary flagship for the _2 nd Battlecruiser Squadron._

It also resulted in them missing out on the battle that was follow soon after.

The _Battle of Jutland._

~ * ~

As the _Indie_ steamed towards her fate Archie and Horatio snatched a couple of moments together in the latter’s cabin. They had been ashore for the day with a group of midshipmen and junior lieutenants from various ships, enjoying a relaxing day in the sun, and had had no idea of what to greet them when they reported to Queensbury Pier to catch the boat back.

“ _Lions_ got flags up,” Horatio had murmured, drawing the group’s attention to the string of signal flags that were indeed flying from Admiral Beatty’s flagship. Without prompting he’d begun to translate them, “ _Raise steam for 22 knots and bank fires at half an hours notice.”_

“But that means…”

“It means, gentlemen,” Archie had drowned out the excited young midshipman from _HMS Tiger._ “That we need to return to our ships and assist in preparing to get them underway.”

They had learned upon their return to the ship that a warning had been transmitted to the Fleet at midday, informing Admiral Beatty that the _German High Sea Fleet_ would be putting to sea the following day. It wasn’t the first time they had heard such a rumour, nor the first time it had been followed by an order to put to sea to chase them down but this time it felt different. A general feeling of excitement had spread throughout the _Battlecruiser Fleet_ in response to the Admiralties order to sail, received at 1740, and Beatty’s subsequent signal.

In the end it had taken longer than anticipated to ready to the Fleet, what with so many men and supplies still to come aboard, so they hadn’t actually got underway until 2000.

“This is it, Horatio,” Archie murmured in the privacy of his lovers cabin, the two of the, stood with their arms wrapped around each other, their chests pressed against one another’s and their lightly stubbled cheeks flush. “I can feel it. This is the moment we’ve been waiting for.”

“I wish you could be at my side in the battle, when it comes,” Horatio confessed in a rush, his hot breath encompassing Archie’s ear in a manner similar to how they conversed in the moments following their hushed but nonetheless passionate lovemaking in the past. “I shall not be able to stop worrying about you until I am able to see for myself that you are whole.”

“Oh, Horatio,” Archie sighed, bringing his hand up to cups he other man’s cheek, using a gentle touch to turn his head so that he could press their lips together. “I shall be fine…”

“I know that logically,” Horatio responded, his lips still close enough to Archie’s that they brushed against them as he spoke. “But that doesn’t do anything to stop me worrying…”

They stayed there, wrapped together and exchanging kisses, for as long as they dared.

Eventually, though, they could put it off no longer and after helping each other to straighten their uniforms reported to the duty stations. It was a starless night, Archie noticed, with no lights visible on the shore or indeed on the ships, creating an eerie feeling as they steamed out of the _Forth_. This was not helped by the near silence that surrounded them, not one of them daring to speak in anything above a murmur meaning that all that could be heard was the swish of the waves as the fifty-two began their all-important journey into the North Sea.

They sailed through the night, Archie and Horatio catching some sleep when their watches allowed, and as the sun rose on the morning of Wednesday 31st May 1916 they stood side by side against the railing, their hands resting as closely as they dared on the metal bar. It didn’t seem possible to them just then with the sea air whipping around them, the taste of salt on their lips, the scent of that same salt flooding their senses, that a battle was coming.

Indeed it just felt as though it were as ordinary a day as ever.

If it weren’t for the thrum of excitement that seemed to be present no matter what part of the ship you were in they could have believed that they were merely out on another patrol.

But they weren’t.

At 1330 they received orders from Beatty for the _2nd Battlecruiser Squadron_ , currently only comprising of _HMS New Zealand_ and _HMS Indefatigable_ , to take up a position two miles to the north-east of _HMS Lion._ At the same time the _5th Battle Squadron_ was ordered to take up their own position some five miles north-north-west of the Admirals flagship and Archie wasn’t the only one to express his concern, even if it was only to Horatio, about how spread out this had left them. Even Captain Pellew muttered under his breath that this was wrong.

They were right to be concerned but wouldn’t have confirmation until much later.

“Signal from _HMS Lion_ , sir,” one of the midshipman relayed the message that had just come up from the signalmen. “We are to be ready to make a turn at 1415 to the north-east, sir.”

“Very well,” Captain Pellew responded. “Mr Bracegirdle, make the necessary preparations.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

Everything had been suitably plotted and prepared for the turn in a matter of minutes but in the end their preparations were proved unnecessary. At 1410 _HMS Galatea_ , the flagship of the _1st Light Cruiser Squadron_ , sighed a Danish steamer ship, the _NJ Fjord,_ and was ordered to investigate it accordingly. Whilst doing so they sighed two ships on the horizon, or more precisely, two German destroyers who were also steaming for the Danish steamer and by the time they themselves reached the _Fjord_ the Germans had already come alongside her.

“Sir, message broadcast from the _Galatea_ ,” the same midshipman, a young man called Hunter, reported breathlessly a couple of minutes after the message had been broadcast at 1418 as there has been a delay in translating it. “ _Urgent. Two cruisers probably hostile in sight bearing east-south-east course unknown._ No response from _HMS Lion_ as of yet, sir.”

“Thank you, Mr Hunter,” Pellew responded. “Keep me informed of any future signals.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

As they waited tensely for anything, be it a message from _Galatea_ or an order from _Lion_ they had no way of knowing that the first shots of the battle had already been fired, _HMS Galatea_ having opened fire at 1428, prompting the German ships to return fire at 1432.

 _Galatea_ was, however, mistaken as to the identity of her targets.

They were not cruisers; they were the _I Scouting Group_ , a special reconnaissance unit within the _Kaiserliche Marine (Imperial Navy)_ commanded by Admiral Franz von Hipper, who had at his disposal the battle proven Battlecruisers _SMS Von der Tann, SMS Moltke, SMS Seydlitz, SMS Derfflinger_ and _SMS Lutzow._ They would come to know these ships well in a little while.

“Flag signal from _HMS Lion_ , sir,” Horatio reported suddenly upon sighting it himself, drawing all of their gazes. “It’s a preparatory signal, sir. _Take up position to form submarine screen.”_

“Very well, Mr Hornblower.”

Such a manoeuvre would bring them onto a new south-south-east course, Archie realised as the men responsible began to plot out their planned route on the charts available to them.

If he had to guess Admiral Beatty’s reasoning then he would assume that the officer in charge of their fate wanted to place them between the Germans and their home ports.

It made sense to cut them off, he supposed, so long as they weren’t being led into a trap.

“Signal from the _Galatea_ , sir,” Hunter called out. “Reporting the presence of a light cruiser.”

Captain Pellew had no opportunity to voice his response as another voice called out,

“Flags, sir!”

As one their eyes shifted to take in the flags hoisted by _HMS Lion._

“Make the turn if you please, Mr Bracegirdle.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

It was then that their concerns about the fleet being too spread out were proved to be well founded as whilst the _1st Battlecruiser Squadron_ and the _2nd Battlecruiser Squadron_ both successfully made the turn, _HMS Lion_ immediately increasing her speed to 22 knots which forced them to do the same, the _5th Battle Squadron_ were simply too far away from them.

They missed the flags, therefore missing the turn and were left behind.

This wouldn’t have been so bad strategically if the _5th Battle Squadron_ hadn’t been home to the four _Queen Elizabeth Class_ Battleships who had the longest range of the entire fleet. As it was the loss of the _5th Battle Squadron_ meant they could no longer engage at a distance.

Captain Pellew wasn’t the only one to curse when they realised what had happened.

“Signal from the _Galatea_ , sir,” Hunter called out as he reappeared on the bridge, a piece of paper clutched in his hand that he began to read from once the Captain nodded. _“Urgent. Have sighted large amount of smoke as though from a fleet bearing east-north-east.”_

“Definitely not a wild goose chase this time, then,” someone muttered, remarking on the amount of times they had been put to sea to hunt down sightings of the Germans that had proven to be false or out of date. “Will we wait for the _5th Battle Squadron,_ do you think?”

“No time,” Horatio answered seriously. “They’ll have to try and catch us up.”

A feat that would be nigh on impossible given the distance between them.

A short while later they saw a bi-plane climbing into the sky some way off before turning in the air and heading towards the smoke that they had only just begun to be able to see on the horizon. Archie shuddered noticeably as the plane dipped suddenly before recovering.

“You couldn’t pay me to go up in one of those flimsy things…”

“I thought you liked heights,” Horatio murmured with a frown, thinking of all the times Archie had climbed the ships mast simply because he could, often volunteering to go up instead of one of the signalmen to untangle the flags. “I’d have thought you’d want to fly.”

“Perhaps if it wasn’t held together with paper and string…”

Several of his fellow officers snorted whilst others voiced their agreement.

It was a strangely lovely day, Archie reflected as they waited for something to happen after sighting the bi-plane, with the sun shining down on them and such a flat, calm sea that it was like gliding through a mill pond. He noticed that many of the sailors down on the deck were taking advantage of the lull in activity, sunbathing as best they could with some of them even taking the opportunity to catch a quick nap. Hardly the behaviour that Archie had expected to see in the build up to what was to be an exciting and important battle.

All bar those on watch were eventually dismissed from the Captain presence so that they could take their afternoon tea, laid out by one of the stewards for them, and it was there that Archie heard something that in all his years at sea he had never heard; the ships bugler, a sixteen-year-old Royal Marines Bandsmen named Adam Kent, sound the call for _“Action!”_

It wasn’t followed by the two notes signalling that it was a drill or a practice.

That could only mean one thing; they were about to commence battle.

As one the gathered officers gulped down the rest of the tea, wincing at the hot liquid passed down their throats too quickly, and followed it with a biscuit or two before they hurried to take up their stations for the oncoming battle. Archie was still struggling to swallow a mouthful of biscuit when he reached his cabin, ducking inside so that he could pull on his newly purchased _grieve waistcoat_ , an article of clothing designed to keep you afloat should you end up in the freezing cold waters. He was just securing the last tie, his mouth finally empty of the biscuit and painfully dry, when a body tumbled into his cabin.

Horatio.

The door was pulled hastily shit behind his lover so that no one would see them embrace, their lips clashing together in one of the most violent kisses either of them had ever known.

“Take care, Archie,” Horatio breathed as they parted. “Please.”

“Always,” he responded, resting his hands on Horatio’s own _grieves waistcoat_. “You too.”

“I’ll come find you when the battle is over.”

A final, gentle kiss, and then they tumbled out of his cabin one after the other.

Horace turned right, heading to his post on the bridge.

Archie turned left, heading for the anti-aircraft gun.

Of the two of them he was in more danger of being hit even if only by shrapnel due to his exposed position. Both of them knew this but neither of them had said anything about it.

The entire ship seemed to be caught up in a state of organised chaos as men rushed to take up their positions, some heading for the guns, others down to the shell rooms, others up to the control rooms or the signal room. Stokers were rigging hoses all over the place, ready to cover the ships wooden deck in water when the need arose, and throughout Archie’s entire journey hatchways were being slammed shut and secured along with the portholes; to keep water from spreading through the ship should they be hit below the waterline and begin to flood. Or fire from spreading, he supposed. It was an unnerving sight but a necessary one.

He caught sight of the flags which would have triggered the bugler to sound his call.

A single red flag, fluttering from the _Lions_ yardarm.

Such a simple thing with such an important message assigned to it – _“Enemy in Sight!”_

They’d increased speed, that was blatantly evident due to the racing of the turbine engines and the whining of the electric fans as they were pushed harder than before, and it felt as though they’d changed course as well in the time he’d been below deck, no doubt done to put them even more firmly between the Germans and their home ports. They were last in line, Archie realised, struggling to keep up with the rest of the ships to the point where he quickly lost sit of the important flag as _HMS Lion_ pulled too far away at the head of the line.

It was a breath-taking sight, he reflected even as he ordered the men under his command to prepare the gun for action; five, well six if you included the _Indefatigable_ which he did, tall, broad-beamed giants steaming in two columns, a dense cloud of thick black smoke filling the otherwise clear sky above their heads as they pushed their engines harder and harder.

“Shouldn’t we have opened fire by now?”

It was a valid question, posed by one of his men as they continued to steam towards the German Fleet which was growing clearer and clearer the closer they got tho them; five equally large beasts, silhouetted against the horizon with their own cloud of dense smoke.

“There’ll be a reason, lad,” one of the older hands muttered gruffly. “Don’t you fret.”

Archie wasn’t so sure.

They must have been in range by then; why hadn’t they opened fire?

Their ships had a longer range than the Germans so this was the perfect opportunity for them to cause significant damage to their enemy before they could begin to return fire.

It was almost textbook.

So why weren’t they firing?

Instead of giving the order to open fire the _2nd Battlecruiser Squadron_ was, rather belatedly, ordered to take up their battle stations in line behind the _1st Battlecruiser Squadron_. Before they had been the last in their column, now they truly were the last ship in the long line and it was a surprisingly disconcerting feeling to be the vessel tasked with bringing up the rear.

“Here we go again,” the same old hand muttered as the _Indefatigable_ began to alter course once more. It took Archie a moment to identify what was going on due to the complicated nature of the manoeuvre; all six of the ships turning as one so as to for, a compass line on a bearing of north-west whilst pursuing their enemy on an east-south-east course. “Why on…”

“They’re trying to clear the smoke,” Archie answered, nodding up to where the smoke had indeed shifted obligingly so that it was no longer obstructing their view of the enemy. “And I’d guess that they also wanted to bring as many guns to bear on the Germans as possible.”

“Ah, that makes sense, I suppose.”

“Do you think we’ll open fire now, sir?”

“I’m afraid I’m not in any position to say,” Archie responded regrettably, glancing back at the exterior of the ships bridge where the decisions would be being made and relayed. If they didn’t open fire soon, however, they’d have lost their advantage. “Just be prepared.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

It was already too late, sadly, as at 1540 the Germans opened fire on the British ships.

Each ship had been assigned a target, not that Archie was aware, and the Indefatigable’s target was the _Von der Tann_. They, in turn, were the _Von der Tann’s_ target so when they began to return fire the two ships entered into something of a duel, firing at each other.

Further down the line things did not go quite as planned.

 _HMS New Zealand_ had engaged with the _Moltke_ , and vice versa, just as they had been ordered to but the next two ships in the British line, the _Tiger_ and the _Queen Mary,_ made the mistake of targeting one ship further back than intended. _HMS Tiger_ should have been firing upon the _Seydlitz_ but ended up targeting the _Moltke_ along with _HMS New Zealand._ The _Queen Mary_ , meanwhile, should have been firing at the _Derfflinger_ but ended up taking on the _Seydlitz_ instead. And then to make matters worse the front two ships, _HMS Princess Royal_ and _HMS Lion_ had both been ordered to target the _Lutzow_ and did so without fault.

This left the _Derfflinger_ unengaged and free to successfully target the _Princess Royal._

There wasn’t much for them to do, no aircraft to shoot down, and so they could do nothing but watch and wait. It was painfully obvious that the Germans had the better visibility, their shells straddling the British ships and eventually landing the first hit to _HMS Lion_ , whilst the British shells were landing too long, doing nothing more than splashing water at their enemy for the longest time before they at last corrected their mistake and finally began to improve.

It happened so suddenly that Archie struggled to process what had occurred.

One moment they were being drenched by a deluge of water, thrown up into the air by a near miss, the column of water reaching higher than their funnels before coming down all over them, and then in the next a second shell hit and the area that they were stood in was peppered with shrapnel and splinters as the explosion clipped the edge of the ship. There was nothing they could do and between one breath and next Archie felt a sharp piece of metal pierce through his waistcoat and uniform, sinking deep into his chest and knocking him onto his back with a startled cry of pain, his head thudding against the wooden deck.

“Lieutenant Kennedy!”

What had…

What…

Another shell landed alongside the ship, drenching them in water but mercifully there were no pieces of shrapnel or wooden splinters this time. A body came to kneel beside him as he coughed and spluttered, his reclined position having left him more vulnerable to the water, a hand pressing down on his chest. Pain flared up, the likes of which he’d never felt before, and he let out an inhuman scream that was drowned out by the thundering boom of their own guns returning fire, the sheer power behind them causing the wooden deck to vibrate.

“Hold still, sir,” a voice commanded. “I need to see how bad it is…”

His hands fluttered uselessly at his sides as his _grieves waistcoat_ was carefully stripped off of him and placed behind his head as a makeshift pillow. A whimper burst out of him when his jacket was carefully unbuttoned and pushed aside, revealing what had once been his crisp white shirt. It was still crisp, he noted almost absentmindedly as he watched the sailor move his tie out of the way, but there was a worryingly large red stain covering most of his chest.

“Oh…” he mumbled, staring down at what was undeniably his own blood. “I’ve been…”

“We’ll get you down to the distributing station, sir,” the sailor who was fussing over him interrupted him quickly, setting about fixing his jacket and tie. “They’ll look after you, sir.”

Archie let out a pained whimper despite his best efforts to keep it contained as the sailor and one of his friends hooked their arms under his and got him to his feet, holding him up when his legs started to give out from underneath him as his vision swam due to the pain.

“It’s just one foot in front of the other, sir.”

“Easier said than…” Archie broke off with a sharp gasp as he took his first step. “ _…done…”_

Every single step they helped him to take caused him to gasp or whimper or even to cry out as the piece of shrapnel shifted inside of him, feeling to him as though it were moving closer and closer to his heart, the near constant pain emanating from the very centre of his chest.

In an effort to distract himself from the pain he found himself looking out towards the battle still commencing around them and noticed with a frown that a two of their Destroyers were passing along the engaged side of the Battlecruisers, therefore blocking their view with the smoke from their funnels. That…that shouldn’t have happened…they shouldn’t be there…

He was right, of course; they _shouldn’t_ have been there.

 _HMS Obdurate_ and _HMS Morris_ , along with the rest of their flotilla, had struggled to retain their battle stations following the sudden turn that the fleet had been ordered to take. The other Destroyers had managed to end up on the correct side but these two ships had been trapped with no other option than to pass along the engaged side of the Battlecruisers to make their way around the, and therefore get out of their way. They were forced to drop their speed so as to limit the amount of smoke put up by their funnels, placing them at a much greater risk of being hit, as it was only adding to the spotter’s already limited vision.

Just before they led him below decks an explosion sounded, unlike those they had heard before; _HMS Tiger_ had been hit so badly that her ‘ _Q’_ and ‘ _X’_ turrets were temporarily put out of action. At the same time Admiral Beatty had order a series of small incremental turns to the south so as to bring their targets squarely to beam. One of these course corrections resulted in Archie and his helpers knocking into the bulkhead, dragging an animal like cry from the wounded officer as he felt the piece of shrapnel press even deeper inside of him.

Blood dripped down his chin…

“Wha…”

“You’ve bitten through your lip, sir,” one of his helpers muttered. “Nearly there now.”

The distributing station couldn’t even be referred to as organised chaos by the time they reached it; it was simply chaos. The surgeons and orderlies, comprised of the stewards, were doing their best to help the wounded men but all too many of them were dying of their wounds before they had been given anything more than a cursory examination.

“Shrapnel to the chest, sir,” one of Archie’s helpers offered up when pressed by the nearest surgeon who barely glanced up from the patient he was treating. “It’s near his heart, sir…”

A quick glance.

A frown.

A sigh.

And then a minute shake of his head.

“Put him in the mess deck starboard side,” the surgeon ordered them, nodding in the direction of the room he was speaking of. “They’ll do what they can to make help him.”

“But, sir…”

“You have your orders, gentlemen,” the surgeon snapped sharply. “Now please let me get back to work on someone who has a chance of making it through this godforsaken battle.”

That was it then, Archie surmised, he’d been written off as a lost cause.

A single piece of shrapnel and he wasn’t worth trying to save.

He was going to die.

It was then as they were leading him into the starboard mess deck that a horrifying thought crossed his sluggish mind, more painful than the physical pain he was still suffering…

Horatio.

What if he died without ever getting to see the man he loved ever again?

No, that wasn’t going to happen.

He was going to hang on, even if it was only long enough for them to say goodbye.

He would not leave this world without seeing his Horatio one last time…

They settled him down on the ground nearest the outer bulkhead, away from the other wounded men who had been deemed too far gone to save and the padre tending to them.

“I’m sorry, sir, but we can’t stay.”

“Quite right,” Archie murmured. “Go. I’ll be fine.”

His helpers shared a brief look of sadness before nodding and leaving the room, re-joining the fight which was only growing in severity as the two fleets continued to converge on one another, both sides rocking severe punishment as the range closed rapidly to 13,000 yards.

It was Hipper that turned his ships away first, giving the order for them to alter their course to a south-east heading at 1555, which prompted Beatty to order his own ships to turn away from their south-south-east course by two points to the south, opening up the range again.

 _Queen Mary_ was able to land two shells in succession during this time, more than any other British ship had managed to until then, but then at 1600 _HMS Lion_ was hit so badly that she lost ‘ _Q’_ turret. It was only the actions of Major Harvey that saved the rest of the ship from being lost, sacrificing himself in the process for which he was awarded the _Victoria Cross._

It was only a couple of minutes later that tragedy befell the _Indefatigable_ and her crew.

At 1602 a salvo from the _Von der Tann_ crashed down onto the _Indefatigable_ , causing the first of two explosions. It was this explosion that took Archie away from the one he loved, a flash of light and then he knew no more. Whether by accident or design the _Indie_ steered out of line and a few second later she was hit by a second salvo, causing a huge explosion.

It was this second explosion that took Horatio before he even realised what was happening.

The ship was torn apart before the horrified gaze of her friends and enemies.

They could do nothing but watch as chunks of the ship were thrown up into the air, from the funnels to the turrets amidst a column of flames and smoke that stretched 1,500 feet high.

The crippled ship then rolled over and sank with a loss of all but two of her crew, both of whom had been aloft and had been thrown clear, before the thick cloud of yellow-brown smoke had cleared. To those watching it was as though the ship had simply vanished into thin air, not a trace of her being left once the smoke had finally dispersed minutes later.

The _Indefatigable_ and her loyal crew were gone.

~ * ~

The exact sequence of events that resulted in the loss of the _Indefatigable_ remain unknown.

It seems most likely that the cordite charges in the ‘ _X’_ turret were ignited and a flash passed down to the magazines however it is entirely possible that a shell penetrated right through the armour and set off the magazine directly. Unfortunately we shall never know the truth.

 _Indefatigable_ , along with the other Jutland wrecks, was belatedly declared a protected place under the _Protection of Military Remains Act, 1986_ so as to discourage further damage to the resting place of 1,016 men. The wreck was identified by nautical archaeologist Innes McCartney in 2001, when it was found to have been heavily salvaged sometime in the past.

Mount Indefatigable in the Canadian Rockies was named after the battlecruiser in 1917.

**~ THE END ~**

**A/N** I had intended to have Archie waking in the Spanish prison after a fever induced dream at the end but didn’t like how it changed the tone of the story so I went with this instead. I don’t envision many people reading this story but felt compelled to write it anyway. If you did read it I hope you enjoyed it and that perhaps you learned something about one of the most important battles of the Great War that most people have never heard of. Marblez x


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